


end of all beautiful things

by norudeghosts



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: A Possibly Obnoxious Number of Fire References and Allegories, Alternate Universe - Historical Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Mentions of Death, References to a Third Party/Potential Polyamory, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sex Magic, Strangers to Lovers, it gets a bit dark/spooky at points, my historical accuracy is dubious as hell please do not come into this with high hopes for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norudeghosts/pseuds/norudeghosts
Summary: The flames from the hearth throw shadows over the walls, strange shapes and patterns that seem almost familiar but just out of focus. “Are all witches like you?”Seungmin’s lips quirk up. He sets aside a piece of one of the plants, and where his fingers touch it Hyunjin can see a hint of blackening. Like it’s burned just by coming in contact with him. “No.”In the town Hyunjin grew up in, there's always been stories. The strongest were of a witch, who was so beautiful and conniving that they tricked the spirit of the mountains itself into falling in love with them, taking their powers for their own. They're fairy tales, something to be told to children to keep them in line, from wandering up the mountainside alone.That's what everyone thought, at least.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 38
Kudos: 259
Collections: EQUINOX





	end of all beautiful things

**Author's Note:**

> hellooooo everyone i bring you this mess that i have no idea where it came from!
> 
> this was written for prompt 103: _"witch of the woods!seungmin lives alone in the middle of his forest and lives a quiet life away from the townspeople who keep wanting to burn him at the stake; one day woodcutter's son!hyunjin arrives and tries to chop down seungmin's favorite maple tree._
> 
> _awkwardness, flirting and feelings ensue + possible angst bc the townsfolk are still trying to kill witch!seungmin, yknow. (bonus points if the rest of skz appear as other fantasy beings like faeries, woodland creatures, werewolves, etc.)"_
> 
> to the prompter: i am so sorry. this is probably not what you wanted but i had a Vision.
> 
> enjoy!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hyunjin _hates_ how his voice echoes through the trees, muffled strangely by the wood and the leaves. The outskirts of the town are always a little rough on his nerves, branches stretching into the sky like crooked fingers grasping for something he can’t see.

Jisung snorts, dumping more kerosene on the pile of wood in front of him. Around it, to contain the flames, he and Felix have put down a ring of stones- some collected from the edge of the forest, others old bricks or paving stones ‘borrowed’ from random places in town. They’re all blackened and soot-covered already, signs of a summer tradition bleeding into early fall.

Normally, Hyunjin doesn’t come to these, no matter how many times the other boys beg. It’s against the unspoken rules of their town to stay out after dark, and while Jisung laughed himself sick the first time Hyunjin mentioned it, it still leaves goosebumps over his skin to watch the sun creep into the treeline.

Most of them don’t think anything of the rules, even if they (usually) follow them. None of them are very difficult, really: be home before dark. Make sure you have your chores done. If you have to leave, stay on the road. Ignore the strange lights and sounds from the forest at night.

Don’t go down the path to the north.

They don’t talk about _why_ there are the rules. Not in public, at least. It’s whispered behind closed doors, talked about in low hushed tones and hesitant murmurs. Rumors of purity and corruption, of fire and death and destruction.

It makes his stomach churn and his hair stand on end.

But this day is special enough that even Hyunjin makes himself ignore the rules. This time next year, they’ll all be legal adults, likely with their families trying to foist brides on them as they prepare to take over the businesses they all run. Felix’s arms already have the scars from the blacksmithy; he knows Jeongin has spent the last month locked inside his family’s store learning the inventory inside and out. Hyunjin’s own hands are raw and bruised from swinging an axe, the callouses that protect his father’s hands not yet formed.

Once the (likely stolen) jar of fuel is empty, Jisung almost trips over his own feet stepping back, tumbling into Felix. The two of them shove at each other, laughing, while Jeongin just rolls his eyes, producing a box of matches from his pocket. It takes him a few tries to get the fire to catch, but after the third match the fire surges to life, fast and bright enough to make them all jump back.

“Are you trying to take off our eyebrows?” Jisung complains, grabbing his beer back off the stump he left it on to take another swig. The lights of their town are distant behind him, flickering lamps making foreign constellations in the evening light. Jeongin makes a rude gesture at him, dropping to the ground a few feet back from the fire and sprawling out, the other three following his lead and sitting in a rough half-circle.

The days are getting shorter, but the faint chill in the air is softened by the fire and the alcohol in their blood.

There’s a sense of melancholy to the gathering, but in spite of it the conversation stays light and teasing. Hyunjin finds himself drifting in and out of it, eyes drawn to the fire as the night settles in around them. They’re his friends, truly they are, but somehow Hyunjin has always felt… Separate from them.

Jisung and Felix are practically twins, born only a day apart, and Jeongin is the baby of their group, teased and treasured in equal measure. Hyunjin may be the oldest, but he isn’t the most mature, the most wise, or the most anything, really. He still lives in his head too much, believes in the stories about the witch of the woods and silently resents the life chosen for him, even if he’d never dare complain to his parents.

If anything, he guesses he could be the most unhappy.

"We should go hunting for the witch." Jeongin says suddenly from where he's laid back. The smoke above them spirals with the wind. "Show Jinnie here there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Hyunjin’s heart drops into his stomach. He knows he’s one of the youngest people who actually _believes_ in the old legends, but hearing them flaunt it so openly still sends fear shivering up his spine. He’s seen the lights up on the mountain, watched them dance and arc like falling stars. Most of the younger people think they’re just hunters’ lamps, but Hyunjin isn’t so sure.

They’re beautiful, gleaming a rainbow of colors like sunlight through water, and he’s never seen lamps like that.

Jisung makes a loud noise of protest at the suggestion, taking another swig of his beer. “I have to be up by dawn for the stages to help unload them. I don’t want to spend all night wandering the woods for some damn myth.”

Felix nods offhandedly, prodding at the dimming fire with a leftover piece of iron he’d swiped from the shop years ago and stashed out here. “I have to get the forge started in the morning.”

“You guys are boring,” Jeongin complains, but lets the subject drop, and Hyunjin lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

He knows, logically, that the story of the witch is just a story. Nobody has seen anything but the lights for years, but just the same- no one has actually dared to wander out into the northern woods, up the mountainside. Not in his lifetime, at least. Some of the older residents claim teenagers used to sneak out there, never to return. Lost to the witch, or the spirit who laid claim to the mountain centuries ago, who gave the witch their powers.

Felix hurls another log onto the fire, sending crackling sparks up toward the sky. Hyunjin’s eyes follow them upward, watching until the embers die out somewhere above the treetops.

* * *

It’s a stupid idea, in hindsight. They need more maple; he hears his parents talk about it all the time, how the supply to the southwest is getting thin for the rising demand. But even his father won’t risk venturing too far to the north, shaking his head and mumbling something about old stories and bad luck.

But they _need_ it, and while this isn’t the future Hyunjin wants, he wants to make his family proud.

So while his father is two towns over getting a new chain for one of the saws, Hyunjin wraps up a bundle of basic supplies and takes one of the smaller transport carts toward the northern path. He knows about the stories. They all know about the stories. But if he can prove there’s a viable amount of maple trees up there…

He has to take the risk.

It’s easy to slip between the trees in the bright sunlight, nobody watching the old and overgrown path leading further up the mountain. It’s never been barred off, as not even the younger children were daring enough to risk the wrath of the witch.

Hyunjin isn’t sure if he feels brave or stupid.

He doesn’t get far into the woods before the sunlight begins to dim, the trees grouping closer together and the path fading out into little more than animal-made trails from disuse. Even though he took the smallest cart available, it’s hard for him to pull it through the thickening brush, and there comes a certain point where he has to abandon it all together. The woods are unsettling this deep in; it’s strangely quiet, his footsteps the only sound he can pick up.

He has to be at least a third of the way up the mountain now. It’s hard to tell how much time has passed with the thick canopy overhead filtering out so much of the light. But the faint glow breaking through is still enough for him to make out the distinctive shape of maple seeds scattered on the forest floor; enough for him to press on into the shade in search of the source.

Hyunjin’s feet are aching by the time he finally spots one, the leaves turning a beautiful shade of red and creating delicate patterns on the forest floor. It’s enough to perk him back up, make him pick up the pace. He can’t bring too much with him, the cart is too far back, but even just a few pieces of the trunk should be enough to prove that it’s worth the risk of coming up here.

He fumbles a little pulling the axe out of the holster on his hip, still unused to the weight of a full axe versus the smaller hatchets he’s accustomed to. He isn’t as skilled at this as his father, has only brought down a handful of trees on his own.

But he needs to at least try. For his father’s sake. For the bags under his mother’s eyes and the strain in her smile.

He swings.

“What are you doing?”

Hyunjin’s axe hits the tree with a sickening _crack_. But it’s not the wood that splinters.

The metal of the axehead shatters the moment it strikes the bark, sending glittering shards in every direction around him. He drops the handle, scrambling back on instinct, and whirls around to face the source of the voice.

He’s not sure what he expected of the infamous witch, really. Perhaps some hunched old woman like in the well-worn story books his mother read to him as a child; maybe something less than human, monstrous and snarling.

Instead, it’s a young man. His clothes look plainer than Hyunjin is used to, all pale linen and dark leather, but otherwise the man looks surprisingly normal. Dark brown hair frames bright eyes that watch Hyunjin with open curiosity. Nothing about him feels _malicious_.

But Hyunjin’s heard the stories.

He’s frozen to the spot, heartbeat deafening in his ears, and it isn’t until the young man takes a step that he reacts, scrambling back a few steps until the stranger stops. There’s nothing overly threatening about him- the only thing in his hands is a small basket full of some kind of berries- but something in the back of his mind is screaming in alarm. “Don’t come any closer.” He stammers over the words, tongue feeling like lead in his mouth.

When the man opens his mouth again, Hyunjin halfway expects some kind of threat or curse, something out of a fairytale, but instead all he offers is, “You’re bleeding.”

Looking down at himself, he sees the stranger is right- when the axe head shattered, some of it must have struck his leg, leaving a nasty gash across the front of his thigh. He doesn’t know if it’s the rush of panic that hid it from him, but now that it’s been brought to his attention the pain makes him whimper.

The stranger steps forward again, a bit more hesitantly, and Hyunjin jerks back. The movement is enough to make the man stop again, pulling his lower lip between his teeth for a moment like he doesn’t know what to say. “I can help you,” he finally offers, voice gentle like he’s speaking to a wounded animal. “My name is Seungmin. What’s yours?”

Giving his name to this man, if he really is the infamous witch, sounds like a _terrible_ idea.

Hyunjin does it anyway. “I’m Hyunjin. Are…” He trails off, swallowing to wet his throat. “Are you going to kill me?”

The man- Seungmin- looks startled by the question. “Of course not,” he answers, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “But I don’t think you can make it back to town with that gash before dark. If you even _could_ find your way back.”

He wants to protest that, say he’s fine and he can make it back to the town doctor on his own. But the trees are dark and thick, what has to be the evening sunlight playing through the canopy of leaves; it catches in the fog, draping the area in shades of gold. At a glance, it almost looks like a wildfire, spilling and swirling between the trunks.

Somehow, Seungmin looks perfectly fitting here. Like if Hyunjin saw him in the market or the stable, he would seem totally out of place, a stranger in a foreign land. He can’t explain _why_ , but the impression is there.

The gash in his leg burns in the air, and he can feel blood starting to drip down and soak his pants. “Okay.” Hyunjin agrees quietly, taking a hesitant step towards Seungmin. The leaves crunching below his feet sound deafeningly loud in the eerie silence.

Seungmin smiles, soft and strangely comforting. “Follow me.”

* * *

Hyunjin has no idea how long they walk for. The woods are even thicker the deeper they press on, enough that he finds himself tripping over tangled roots and dense underbrush, the ache in his leg only intensifying as they keep going.

Then suddenly the towering trunks thin out again- not all the way, but enough to reveal a small cabin, built out of stone so dark he almost can’t see it in the dim light. If not for the glow of the windows, he would have missed it.

The door is heavy wood, engraved with a design like none he’s ever seen. It’s too dark now to make out any real detail, but he thinks he spots a deer head before Seungmin pulls it open and ushers him inside.

A single lit lamp is already sat on a cluttered table to the side, casting the small room into sharp shadows. He hesitates for a moment until Seungmin gestures to the wooden chair next to the table, sitting down with a hiss of pain as the skin on his leg pulls open further. Out of bile curiosity, he glances down at the cut, stomach twisting at the sight of blood staining almost the entire front of his thigh. “Oh god,” he mumbles, swallowing hard.

The sound of the fireplace roaring to life startles him; he hadn’t even noticed Seungmin moving from the doorway, much less building a fire. But sure enough Seungmin is straightening, the warm glow suffusing the room faster than Hyunjin expects, and he turns to face him with a small smile. “May I?”

It takes a second for him to realise what Seungmin is asking, and he nods jerkily, trying not to flinch too hard when delicate fingers begin to peel back the torn fabric around the slice. “It’s not too deep,” Seungmin hums thoughtfully as he traces the very edge of the wound with a feather-light touch. It burns, but Hyunjin manages not to pull away. “The edges are fairly clean. It needs stitched, but it should heal quickly.”

“But I thought wounds could only be stitched a short while after they happened? If I’m not making it back to town tonight…”

His confusion must be amusing, because Seungmin laughs softly at the words, the same way his mother does when Hyunjin asks a particularly odd question. “I can stitch it, Hyunjin.” He assures, stepping away to the shelves that take up an entire wall of the cabin. “Take off your pants and I’ll get it closed up.”

Hyunjin’s face burns at the suggestion; despite knowing it’s for chaste reasons, the idea of disrobing in front of a _stranger_ \- especially one as beautiful as Seungmin, his brain treacherously supplies- is beyond embarrassing. But Seungmin seems completely unbothered, browsing the jars and boxes in front of him in search of something, so Hyunjin leans down to unlace his boots.

He almost sighs in relief when he pulls them off, his aching feet grateful for the break. Seungmin is still looking for something, pulling a jar off then putting it back, so he tries to pretend the background noise is just his family moving around at the end of the day as he goes to take his pants off.

It only sort of works, the room filled with too many unfamiliar scents and the floor is a series of worn stone bricks versus their carefully laid wood, but he at least manages to do it without embarrassing himself too badly. The hole in the fabric looks even larger like this, and he grimaces at the blood stain that’s crept slightly past his knee.

“I can fix that.”

Hyunjin jumps at the sound of Seungmin’s voice from that close, looking up at the other man with wide eyes. Seungmin smiles slightly, expression apologetic as he sets a spool of thread and a jar down on the table beside Hyunjin. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Now, or earlier.”

“It’s okay.” Hyunjin says it without thinking, but surprisingly he thinks he means it. Talking about the story of the witch a few nights before absolutely set his nerves on edge, making him jumpier than normal, and Seungmin’s sudden appearance had thrown him.

He shouldn’t be so paranoid. It isn’t _that_ rare for hunters to live out in woods on their own, even if Seungmin seems young for that. Or he could be from another village, one who doesn’t have any story of these woods, and he’s just here for the autumn deer that lurk on the mountain.

Seungmin kneels on the floor beside him, gently nudging Hyunjin to extend his leg out in front of him. Taking a cloth off the table that Hyunjin hadn’t even noticed, he dips it into the jar, then gently brushes it over the cut on Hyunjin’s leg. He does his best not to flinch at the sting, gritting his teeth as Seungmin carefully works to clean the wound.

“This should keep any infection at bay,” Seungmin informs him, folding up the bloody cloth once he’s removed as much of the mess as he can. When he picks up the spool of thread, Hyunjin can see a delicate, curved needle already tucked into the side, and it takes everything in him not to shy away. Seungmin seems to notice it, laying one hand gently on Hyunjin’s thigh as if reminding him to hold still.

The touch is burning hot on his skin, but Seungmin removes his hand again before Hyunjin can even react, carefully unwinding a length of thread. After a moment of consideration, he reaches into his belt- one that had been hidden so well by his shirt Hyunjin hadn’t even seen it earlier- and produces a knife, slicing the thread in one sure movement.

Hyunjin finds himself almost hypnotized as Seungmin makes a series of interlocking knots in the thread, fingers working deftly to make sure it’s solid before he sets to work. “Are you a doctor?”

“No,” Seungmin sounds faintly amused by the question, eyes crinkling up even as he does his best to keep a serious face. “I’m a witch.”

Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat.

“What?” His voice breaks a little on the word, but Seungmin hardly seems to notice. He pauses to lick the pad of his thumb, then pinches the needle between his thumb and forefinger. Licking his other thumb, he pulls on the very tip of the needle, letting it slip through the small gap in his fingers.

The thread _sizzles_ as it slides over his skin, like water on a hot pan, and Hyunjin jumps. Finally Seungmin looks back up, eyes bright with reflected flame, but his expression is completely unreadable.

The tension is almost enough to choke on. He knows his entire body has gone tense with fear; something not helped by the intensity of the stare fixed on him.

Then Seungmin sighs softly, the blaze in his eyes dying between blinks. “I’m not going to hurt you, Hyunjin.”

And somehow, in spite of all the stories, Hyunjin believes him.

“Okay.”

It’s barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to soften Seungmin again; the small smile comes back to his face, and Hyunjin wonders if the sun rose with it. “I know what I just said,” There’s humor in his voice when he speaks, probably to try and settle Hyunjin’s shot nerves. “But this will still pinch a little bit.”

It hurts less than he expects when Seungmin breaks the skin with the needle, just a strange sharp sensation that fades almost instantly. Seungmin is also _quick_ , the first stitch done and pulled taut faster than Hyunjin anticipates, and by the time he finishes the tenth and final stitch the whole area of Hyunjin’s leg he’s been working on feels strangely numb.

Seungmin must see his confusion, laughing through his nose as he knots the other end of the stitches and frees the needle. “It’s a poultice. Willow for the pain, burdock to keep it clean.” He explains, pushing himself back to his feet. “It should heal in a few days, but you shouldn’t move it too much so the catgut doesn’t tear.”

“But... I need to get home.” Hyunjin chews on his bottom lip, nerves creeping back up. Sure, Seungmin seems friendly- or, at least, not actively harmful- but... “I didn’t even tell my family I was going into the woods.”

Seungmin cocks an eyebrow at him, screwing the lid back onto the poultice before placing it back on his shelf. “If you were just going a short distance it would likely hold, but hiking halfway down a mountain will rip it open again.” Hyunjin finds himself captivated again when Seungmin turns around, the firelight dancing over his skin and making him almost glow. “I don’t want to have to dig you an early grave because you tore open an artery.”

“Wouldn’t the animals just eat me?” Hyunjin winces after the words leave his lips. It’s a gruesome thought, honestly, and he regrets letting himself say it.

Then Seungmin _laughs_ , bright and high and a little nasally, and Hyunjin finds himself staring, dumbfounded. His eyes curve into slender crescents, his smile a little crooked, but the effect feels like staring into the sun. Hyunjin makes himself look away, back at the delicate stitching holding his flesh together. “That wouldn’t be a good idea for them. Humans use so many chemicals now, they could get sick.”

Hyunjin's head snaps back up, and something on his expression must give away the nerves twisting in his stomach, because Seungmin grimaces. “Sorry. I’ve been alone for a while, my sense of humor is…” He seems to fumble for a word, settling on a shrug and a thin smile.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, Hyunjin sits awkwardly in the chair as Seungmin bustles around the cabin, producing more thread to mend the rip in his pants. He’s skilled, tugging the thread through with quick movements that make Hyunjin think of the seamstress in town, her humming machine running stitches lightning-quick through the fabric of whatever she worked on.

Seungmin is no machine, though he too hums- soft and melodic, a song Hyunjin thinks he might have known at one point but has long forgotten. It soothes his nerves, makes his eyelids heavy even though he’s sure it’s no later than early evening. Seungmin seems to notice, looking at Hyunjin with an expression he could almost mistake for fondness. “You should get some rest. I’ll be quiet.”

Hyunjin hesitates, because though the bed is large and soft and inviting, piled with knit blankets and furs, it’s not _his_. “It’s okay.” Seungmin reassures, setting Hyunjin’s clothes down on the table. His hand is burning hot where it touches Hyunjin’s arm to help him up, and for a second Hyunjin almost jerks away.

But Seungmin is so gentle, and the crash from the stress has left him exhausted, so he lets himself be led across the room. He only vaguely registers Seungmin piling the blankets around him, making a cocoon of warmth, before he dozes off.

* * *

When Hyunjin wakes, he can see the first few rays of dawn breaking through the small windows around the doorway. The door itself is wide open, letting light and morning dew drift into the cabin, but somehow it’s still so warm.

He sits up drowsily, feeling the furs slip from around his shoulders as he does. Seungmin’s cabin is easily the size of his family’s home, even if it’s all one room, and the walls are packed to bursting with jars and boxes filled with things he’s never seen.

Without thinking, he slips off the bed, pulling the knit blanket with him as he walks. The jars are all labeled with things he’s never even heard of, some of them in other languages he doesn’t begin to recognize. A few are just arcane symbols, carefully hand-drawn on lids and glass, and part of him wants to pick them up to look at them closer.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Hyunjin spins in place, bare feet almost silent on the stone floor, to see Seungmin standing in the doorway. He sets down the basket full of plants on the table, gently nudging the door shut behind him and offering Hyunjin a warm smile. Hyunjin can feel his cheeks heating up, suddenly very aware of his partial nudity in the presence of a near-complete stranger.

“Your pants are on the chair.” Seungmin offers, like he’s reading Hyunjin’s mind. He might be; Hyunjin has no idea what the powers of a witch entail. “I’ll get some breakfast started.” Then he turns his back, approaching the stove tucked in the corner of the room.

Hyunjin bolts across the room to the chair after Seungmin turns his back, face burning as he fumbles with his pants. The slice from earlier has been mended cleanly, so neatly Hyunjin wouldn’t even know there had ever been damage if he hadn’t seen the tear himself.

Moving his leg too much sends sparks of pain up his spine, and he bites down a whimper as he forces the pants over his torn skin. Seungmin’s comment last night about him walking home being foolish comes back to the forefront of his mind, and he hates admitting it’s probably right.

He hates even more that he doesn’t really _want_ to.

Sure, Seungmin is a complete stranger, and the infamous witch of the woods on top of that. But it’s a change, a chance away from all the expectations and the crushing weight of his home, and it’s as freeing as it is terrifying.

“I hope you like eggs,” Seungmin’s words tug him out of his thoughts, and as he says it Hyunjin registers the soft hiss of something cooking. The smell is enough to make his mouth water, only reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since early the day before. “The girls laid plenty, so please help yourself.”

Hyunjin lets himself settle down in the chair, tugging the blanket tighter around him. Before he knows how to react, Seungmin sets a plate down in front of him, followed by a fork. Normally Hyunjin isn’t much for eggs, but these smell mouth-watering, mixed with some kind of herbs and spices he can’t readily identify. “Go ahead and eat, mine will be done in a minute.” Seungmin assures him when his stomach growls, and Hyunjin doesn’t think twice. They taste as good as they smell, and Hyunjin would feel greedy if not for Seungmin’s encouragement.

He doesn’t know what to say, really; ‘thank you’ sounds tepid. But Seungmin doesn’t seem interested in pushing him, humming another song that Hyunjin thinks he half-remembers as he goes around the small kitchenette of the cabin, cleaning the pan and plates in a basin before placing them back into a rack above the stove. Hyunjin just watches, finding himself strangely enamoured by the movement of Seungmin’s hands, delicate and faintly scarred.

But he also knows the stories.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The words slip out before he thinks them through, and he has the sense to look chastised at his own bluntness.

Seungmin looks down from the rack as he slots down the last plate, clearly surprised. “I already said I wasn’t. Why would I change my mind?”

It's a good question, honestly. Seungmin could have easily left him out there in the woods to die of the wound in his leg, or sent him on his way to tear it back open and bleed out.

But he’s grown up on so many rumors of the infamous witch of the woods, how they- _he_ \- slaughtered or magicked away anyone who encroached on his territory, and what would this be except for his territory? “All the stories say you do.”

Seungmin laughs, the sound high and nasal but strangely charming. Still, it’s enough to make him startle, and Seungmin looks apologetic and amused in equal measure. “I haven’t killed anyone in a very long time, Hyunjin. And I don’t plan to start again.”

But he _has._

The knowledge makes his stomach twist, hard enough to make him wonder if the eggs he just ate are gonna come back up. “Oh.” The word is more air than sound, like it’s been forced out of his chest against his will, and Seungmin frowns slightly.

The witch crosses the room in a few steps, settling down in the chair on the other side of Hyunjin. Silence rules over the small cabin, Seungmin watching him with bright, considering eyes. “I don’t know what the stories say about me anymore,” Seungmin admits slowly, hands linking together on the tabletop. “But I don’t plan on hurting you or anyone else.”

Hyunjin chews on his bottom lip, an old habit leftover from his childhood he still falls into when anxious. “Are you really the one the stories are about? You don’t look any older than me, and the stories were old when my grandparents were kids.”

Dark lashes flutter as Seungmin blinks, clearly thinking about the question, and for a moment Hyunjin is struck by how _beautiful_ this man is. High cheekbones, soft, puppy-like eyes, and well-defined lips. It’s stupid, but he thinks he gets how some of the stories- that the spirit of the mountain themself fell in love with the witch, blessing them with power unimaginable- began.

Seungmin seems easy to love.

The thought sits in his guts like a stone.

“I am,” Seungmin answers slowly, consideringly. Like he’s not sure how to put it, even though he wants to answer Hyunjin’s question. “The original ones, at least. You can’t tell how old a tree is from its bark.”

“Original ones?”

A small smile pulls at Seungmin’s lips, faint and a little bitter. “Things gain a life of their own after so long.”

The silence that settles over them isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Hyunjin can feel it down to his bones. Seungmin watches him silently, patiently, as if waiting to see what else Hyunjin has to ask.

There’s a lot he wants to ask, honestly. How did this happen? Why? How much of the stories are true, versus how much are just that- stories, told to scare people into behaving, staying out of the woods and in town where they could be productive.

That’s not what leaves his mouth. “How long have you been alone?” Seungmin’s eyes widen, clearly startled, and Hyunjin bites his tongue with a wince. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” But Seungmin’s voice is soft, lined with sadness, and it makes something in Hyunjin’s chest ache. “It’s been… A long time. What year is it?”

Hyunjin blinks in confusion. “It’s eighteen seventy eight.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows raise slightly, just enough of an expression change for Hyunjin to catch his surprise. “Oh. Then… It’s been a _very_ long time.” The sadness stays in his tone, bringing down the mood like a lead weight.

Then he seems to shake it off, offering Hyunjin a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re welcome to stay until your leg heals. I have plenty of room, and food, and I certainly don’t want to be responsible for you not making it home.”

Part of Hyunjin wants to protest. But his leg _aches_ , even just sitting here, and he knows there’s no way he can make it back down the mountain like this.

“Okay.”

* * *

His legs heals up fairly fast, all things considered. Hyunjin’s seen lesser wounds take months to close up; the worst of the damage to his leg is gone in roughly two weeks. It stays sore, and the skin itself hasn’t fully closed up, but Seungmin’s stitches hold well and the poultice he applies every other night keeps any infection at bay.

Time is an odd thing out here. He stays inside or just outside the cabin for most of the time, doing what little he can to help Seungmin with the surprisingly robust garden tucked away behind the cabin; he nearly gets himself tangled in the vines of a pumpkin when he goes looking for Seungmin one day. There’s a variety of vegetables and carefully-pruned fruit bushes, and based on the food Seungmin brings home from time to time after his trips deeper out, there’s some kind of orchard he tends further into the woods.

There’s a chicken coop in the back as well, fenced off with delicate wire, only three hens and a single rooster. “When they start getting old I raise a new generation.” Seungmin explains when Hyunjin asks why he has so few, dumping some kind of meal into the pen that they eagerly gobble up. “It’s easier on all of us.”

Seungmin also gives him some art charcoals and paper when he finds Hyunjin doodling in the dirt one day, eyes bright and warm like a hearth. He hasn’t really had time to practice his art in years, not with his training to run his parents’ business, but it comes back to him with time. His fingers stain with the charcoal, and the first drawings he makes get tossed into the fire from embarrassment, but there’s an intense sense of satisfaction when he captures the delicacy of a blossom from the bushes nearby, the messy nature of the chickens hopping around their pen.

The quiet beauty of Seungmin’s face when he works.

That’s the hardest and most embarrassing part of his time here; he’s always known his interest isn’t in the fairer sex, but Seungmin is the most beautiful person he’s ever met, and one of the gentlest, despite what the stories and rumors would have him believe. He’s brilliant, attentive, always willing to explain what he’s doing when it piques Hyunjin’s curiosity.

Hyunjin can _feel_ himself falling.

How exactly does one handle that, falling for a possibly-immortal witch with powers beyond their understanding?

Subtlety has never been Hyunjin’s strong suit, really. He does his best to hide it. Even though he knows he hangs on Seungmin’s words like a puppy, and Seungmin never comments on it.

He knows he should go soon. The winter chill is beginning to creep in, frost coating the leaves early in the morning before the sun breaks through the treetops. It never seems to come far into the cabin when Seungmin is there, no matter whether or not there’s a fire in the hearth; the only time Hyunjin really notices it is when Seungmin leaves or he goes outside.

From time to time he wonders what his family thinks; if they think he ran or got caught in some kind of accident. He’s been gone for long enough they may well think he’s dead.

Hyunjin hates himself a little for the relief he feels at the thought.

“Seungmin?”

It’s later in the evening, after the darkness and the night sounds settle over the forest, and they’ve just come in from the garden; Seungmin was gone for most of the day on some errand he didn’t specify, while Hyunjin was sketching the chickens and pulling the handful of weeds still trying to survive through the cold snap.

The plants Seungmin brought back are resting on a handmade cutting board, carefully washed in the sink basin. “Yes?” Seungmin doesn’t look up from his work, selecting a knife from the block on his counter.

Hyunjin doesn’t know if he should ask. It’s stupid to ask, really, and selfish.

He does anyway.

“Do you mind if I… stay for a while longer?” Hyunjin made tea earlier; Seungmin keeps a few blocks stacked on his shelves, and with time he’s learned how to brew it just strongly enough to keep it from getting bitter. The mug he’s using steams between them, and he watches his own reflection in the liquid.

Seungmin hums, soft and melodic, a sound Hyunjin has come to adore. There’s a pot beside him, the stove dampeners open wide as the liquid inside simmers. For a long second, he’s terrified Seungmin will say no.

“I don’t mind at all, Hyunjin.”

Relief bubbles up inside him, and he slumps a little in the chair, watching as Seungmin begins to work on chopping the plants in quick, smooth strokes.

He hadn’t used a match to light the stove. Simply tapped it with a finger and it had sparked to life. It’s not the only example of something he can’t explain that Seungmin has done, but it is the most recent; the shelves full of different objects and jars labelled in languages he doesn’t recognize, Seungmin’s eternal warmth, the fact that he isn’t sure Seungmin has even slept since he came here…

“What are you thinking about?” Seungmin’s question isn’t accusatory. Just curious. Somehow Hyunjin thinks he already knows, or at least has an idea, and is just asking to give Hyunjin the chance to bring the subject up.

The flames from the hearth throw shadows over the walls, strange shapes and patterns that seem almost familiar but just out of focus. “Are all witches like you?”

Seungmin’s lips quirk up. He sets aside a piece of one of the plants, and where his fingers touch it Hyunjin can see a hint of blackening. Like it’s burned just by coming in contact with him. “No.”

Hyunjin chews on the inside of his lip, the mug clasped tightly in his hands warming his chilled fingers. It’s calming, almost hypnotic, watching Seungmin work, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “Then… how did you become... Like this?”

If the question throws Seungmin, he doesn’t show it. The steady chopping sound of his knife fills the cabin as he slices some kind of plant Hyunjin has never seen before into small, even pieces. “How did I become a witch, or how did I become something else?”

“...Something else.”

“I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have.” Seungmin’s voice is wistful, melancholy and fond in equal measure. He picks up the wooden cutting board with one hand, carefully pushing all but a few slices into the empty jar beside him. The last of them go into the pot, hitting the liquid inside with a faint splash. “Some would call him a god. Others, a spirit or a devil.”

The smell of whatever Seungmin is making deepens and thickens, becoming strong enough to linger on the back of his tongue. It makes him think of the end of fall, when Mrs. Lee from down the street roasted the ducks brought in by hunters for hours, the smell of the seasonings and meat carrying across the entire town. “That didn’t matter to me. It didn’t matter to either of us, eventually.”

Seungmin fiddles with the dampener, the flames crawling over the sides of the pot dimming to just the faintest glow beneath it. He thinks about when they met, about Seungmin telling him that he’s been alone for so long. The words leave Hyunjin’s mouth before he can stop them. “So he made you like him and then just left?”

He flinches at his own bluntness, but Seungmin seems unbothered, a small smile playing on his lips. It’s the same unreadable expression he had when they met, a careful mask Hyunjin has no way to see around. “Oh, Jinnie,” he sighs, and somehow the words feel heavier than stone. “You make it sound so simple.”

Hyunjin wants to ask. But the nickname sticks to his mind, makes his cheeks flush hot and pink at the idea of Seungmin referring to him so fondly. “I’m sorry if I brought up something bad.”

Seungmin’s smile doesn’t falter. There’s a moment where he does seem to hesitate, setting the blade down on the cutting board, and Hyunjin almost apologizes again. Then Seungmin reaches across the table, cupping Hyunjin’s cheek, and his entire thought train grinds to a halt. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His touch is blazing hot, a warmth so intense Hyunjin is almost worried his skin will scald.

For a moment, he thinks Seungmin is going to kiss him.

For a moment, he doesn’t want anything more.

But the moment passes, and Seungmin moves to draw back, expression faltering. His fingers linger on Hyunjin’s cheek, just barely skimming the edge of his lips.

Hope blossoms, small and sweet, somewhere in Hyunjin’s chest.

* * *

Hyunjin’s leg does scar in the end, a thin white mark across the front of his thigh.

He stays, even once the wound closes up entirely. Seungmin doesn’t tell him to go, and he doesn’t try.

Ultimately, he learns to sew. He isn’t particularly skilled at it yet, and he’s significantly slower than Seungmin, but he manages to help mend the clothes Seungmin has made him. And his art gets better. Hyunjin is still too shy to show Seungmin the drawings of _him_ , but Seungmin winds up making a small frame for some art of the chickens- all four, plus their small hutch.

The soft, fond look in his eyes lingers in Hyunjin’s dreams.

Now that his leg has healed, he actually accompanies Seungmin out sometimes; often not far, usually just to the orchard and back. It’s closer than he expects, a small stream feeding a variety of fruiting trees, and Seungmin shows him how to prune the branches so they don’t interweave. Hyunjin doesn’t think some of these species are supposed to be here, fruits he’s only ever seen in the large city markets hanging heavy above their heads, but given Seungmin’s powers, he doesn’t question it much.

The mountain is bigger than he thought. In fact, he would swear that they venture far off the mountain several times, but somehow they never seem to be more than an hour’s walk from the cabin. It’s surreal in a way, but Seungmin never answers him when he asks if it’s his doing.

Hyunjin has no idea the actual extent of Seungmin’s abilities; how much of what he can do is supernatural, and how much is just time and experience.

The trees are thinner out here, a handful of meadows even sprawling out between some of the clusters. In spite of the encroaching winter they’re full of thick grass, nearly brushing his knees. It feels almost like they’re in another world with the stark difference. “It’s pretty up here.” Hyunjin’s voice is almost too loud in the silence, only a handful of bird cries piercing the air. He had seen a few vultures lingering in the taller trees, but not much else.

“It is,” Seungmin agrees softly, stopping for a moment to examine a blossom more closely. “The stream isn’t much further. I only need a bit of the water there.”

Hyunjin still isn’t used to this. Helping Seungmin with his spells and potions is inherently strange for him after a lifetime of listening to warnings about the danger. Seungmin doesn’t feel dangerous, not like the stories told him, even though Hyunjin _knows_ he is. There’s something comforting about him. Like a fire in a hearth.

The silence and stillness of the area creeps up his spine, just enough to set his teeth on edge, and he finds himself talking to keep it at bay. “So this is for tuberculosis? Can you really cure things like that?”

Seungmin hums, and Hyunjin almost trips over his own feet when a warm hand takes his. It’s not the first time Seungmin has held his hand, often doing it to help him through rougher terrain, but every time still sends butterflies fluttering in his ribcage. “Sometimes. Not always, but there are ways, yes. This should work for this client.”

He has no idea who Seungmin’s clients are. That’s one thing he’s never been part of, Seungmin’s deliveries. Sometimes it’s potions with a sweet, bright fragrance, or a poultice that smells of spice and glimmers in the light.

The trees are beginning to thicken again, species he doesn’t even recognize dotting the landscape, and the grass thins, giving way to dirt and rocks in spots. He can hear the stream now, faintly, the murmur of water drifting through the trees, and Seungmin’s hand tightens in his. Tracks of some kind litter the dirt, faintly visible in the bright light filtering through the treetops.

“Deer.”

Seungmin’s voice startles him back out of his thoughts, and it takes him longer than he wants to admit to grasp what the other said. “What?”

Seungmin smiles, patient as always, and Hyunjin thinks he’s a little bit doomed. “The tracks. Deer. Probably a doe and her fawn, from the depth.”

He can see the stream through the trees, a small cliff- from a landslide some time ago, if he had to guess- creating a waterfall just a few feet high. It’s cute, almost, and he nearly says so until Seungmin suddenly stops. “Oh.”

Hyunjin stumbles from the loss of momentum, his hand threatening to break free from Seungmin’s. “What’s wrong?” Seungmin stays silent even when he asks, staring at a grassy spot in the shade of the trees with an intensity that worries Hyunjin. There’s something in his eyes Hyunjin can’t place, and it makes his stomach clench. “Seungmin?”

“It’s nothing.” But it’s too hesitant, and Seungmin’s eyes linger in the spot for too long for Hyunjin to accept it.

It's hard to make himself pull away from Seungmin’s touch. The ground is uneven and damp, mist from the waterfall carrying to the soil, and Hyunjin’s balance falters a few times. The tree is beautiful, a yew heavy with berries, and for a moment he's almost sidetracked by the view.

Then he sees what Seungmin did and stops dead.

Hyunjin isn't surprised he didn't see it at first; the fawn is tiny, practically a newborn, and the tuft of grass it's curled up in camouflages it well. It looks like a doll, delicately folded up in its place, but the dull, glazed over eyes destroy the illusion.

Seungmin is beside him a few seconds later, expression blank and unreadable. Then he kneels in the dirt, uncaring that it sinks into his pants. Hyunjin follows him down, worrying his lip between his teeth. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Plenty of things." Seungmin answers easily, reaching into his bag without looking. A moment later he produces a flower, one Hyunjin can't identify but recognizes as one plucked from the garden, and lays it beside the fawn. "Illness. Starvation. Something toxic. The mother may have died. It's unfortunate, but it happens."

"I didn't think deer fawned this late in the year." Hyunjin admits. His voice is almost a whisper; it feels wrong, somehow, to be loud here now.

Seungmin smiles, soft and melancholic in a way that makes his chest ache. Calloused fingers smooth over the fawn's back, as if comforting it. "We're all outliers out here."

Hyunjin wonders, for a moment, if he is too.

Birdsong breaks through the trees, the sound of the waterfall almost drowned out by it, and there's a feeling of strange serenity to the whole scene. Sadness, too, but also peace. “Seungmin…”

Asking feels almost taboo, but Seungmin’s hesitation lingers in his mind, and he’s trying to learn not to fear the answers. “Why didn’t you want me to see this? I know how nature works. Things die. I’m not some delicate flower.”

Seungmin’s hand stills on the fawn, smile slipping from his face as his lips part. He’s clearly hesitant, eyes roaming over speckled fur as he seems to consider how to answer. “I know that. It’s… Not that. It’s not _you_.”

For the first time, he realizes Seungmin is _trembling._ Not much, not enough to really stand out, but it’s one of the strongest reactions he’s ever seen from the witch.

“I don’t like death.” Seungmin admits, laughing breathlessly like it’s a joke that fell flat. “I know no one does, but… It’s harder now. Knowing that everything around me will wither and rot. That, and...”

There’s still hesitation there, and then he finally looks up at Hyunjin. “I don’t want to show you the ugly parts of this, Jinnie.” The darkness in his eyes hits like a punch to the chest, makes Hyunjin think of the night Seungmin told him about the god. About the moment where he was so sure Seungmin was going to kiss him. “I’m selfish like that.”

Hyunjin thinks maybe he’s the selfish one.

Without a second thought, he leans forward to press their lips together.

He knows it’s clumsy from inexperience, having only had a handful of kisses stolen under the cover of dark before, but he tries to pour as much feeling as he can into it before pulling back. When he opens his eyes, some part of him is gratified to see Seungmin’s fluttering open too, and he hopes against everything he hasn’t overstepped. “I don’t care,” Hyunjin’s voice sounds foreign to his own ear, filled with a conviction he didn’t know he had. “I want all of it. Even the ugly and painful parts.”

Seungmin stares at him, eyes bright and unreadable, and for a long moment Hyunjin thinks he’s ruined everything. His throat tightens, and he finds himself biting the inside of his lip to try and will away tears before they form. “I’m sorry, I know you’re in love with him still.” He knows Seungmin does, from the fondness and warmth just speaking about him brings. He understands it, even if it hurts. “I just-”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish the thought.

A warm, rough hand cups his cheek, and then _Seungmin_ is kissing _him._

His lips are soft, just the slightest bit chapped, and when Hyunjin gets a little overeager he easily guides him back. Seungmin’s thumb brushes over the edge of Hyunjin's bottom lip, catching his top lip briefly between his own before he pulls away. Hyunjin whines unconsciously, following after him, and Seungmin laughs.

Thumb brushing over Hyunjin's lip with just enough pressure to tug it with the movement, Seungmin smiles, somehow more blinding than the sunlight filtering through the sparse canopy overhead. "Come on, Jinnie. We have work to do still."

The warmth and fondness in Seungmin's tone make the delicate thing in his chest bloom, hope growing into joy.

* * *

Seungmin never makes any move to lock him in, never says he has to stay behind and wait when he goes out to meet clients, but something keeps him in the small cabin, working quietly in the garden or on his drawings. Seungmin returns with more charcoal and more paper every so often, though Hyunjin isn't sure where he gets it from- he's never seen Seungmin in town, and the next city over is too far to travel on foot. He wonders if one of Seungmin’s clients is an artist, and they’re payment of some sort.

The idea that Seungmin would do that for him makes his cheeks and chest both burn.

Still, it's almost three weeks after his wound heals before Hyunjin is willing to venture out alone. The woods this far out are dark and deep, and he’s worried about losing his way, but something draws him out anyways.

It's early enough in winter that snow has yet to fall, but the chill permeating the air is enough for Hyunjin to take the heavy leather coat Seungmin left hanging up for him by the door before slipping off. Fog seeps through the trees, glowing eerily in the early dawn light. Somewhere below, the first villagers are dragging themselves from bed to start the day.

He can see his breath in the air when the fog breaks enough, a recreation of the weather in miniature, and part of him wants to turn back. He could still go home.

Hyunjin turns and presses further up the mountain.

The trees are grouped thinner up here, the deciduous trees giving way to pines and yews, shocks of autumn colors still hidden amongst the evergreens. It’s _beautiful_ , in a way he’s not used to, and for a few minutes he just watches the sun slowly climb above the treetops, shadows dancing with the breeze.

Soft crunches, footsteps through the leaves, grab his attention, the sound sudden enough Hyunjin’s heart practically leaps out of his chest, and he spins to try to find the source.

There in the shadow of the trees, just a bit further up the mountain, a pure black stag stares down at him.

The hunters had talked about the deer in these woods, how they went to the high ground away from their bows and rifles to graze and breed, but he’s never even _heard_ of a black stag. The creature is beautiful, antlers almost blending into the branches above its head, and Hyunjin finds himself trapped in its gaze like it’s a physical thing.

Then it turns, a single graceful movement, and begins to head further toward the summit.

Somehow, Hyunjin knows down to his core that he’s meant to follow.

There’s not a trail up here, not really, but he manages to keep pace with the stag either way, boots crunching over the fallen leaves. When he starts falling behind, the creature pauses, as if it's _waiting_ for him. He doesn't have any idea how long he follows it- long enough for the sun to creep further above the treetops, and for his feet to start to ache.

Then they reach a break in the trees, and the stag stops, ears tilting towards Hyunjin as if waiting for his approach. There's enough dirt and wild growth it takes Hyunjin longer than it should to realize where they're standing, where he's been led to.

The gravestones are strangely beautiful like this, vines and wildflowers encroaching over the monuments like nature itself is trying to heal the damage done. There's a few he thinks may have been statues, once, worn down by nature and time to something unrecognizable. Hyunjin finds himself hesitant to step further into the clearing, even as the stag seems to beckon to him with a silent stare.

Something about the area sets him on edge, sends goosebumps down his spine, but he approaches the deer either way.

It doesn't shy away from him, dark eyes staring at him with an intelligence he doesn't know how to categorize. There's a single grave beside it, a stone he thinks may have been a cross once, but with arms long since broken off. The whole thing has been worn nearly smooth, engraving barely visible under the thick vines wrapped around it.

Hyunjin hesitates for a moment a few steps away from the stag, but it remains perfectly still, watching him intently as if urging him on.

The vines take a few hard tugs to break loose, and for a second Hyunjin's scared the entire stone will come with it, but the plants release their stranglehold with an audible _snap_.

His breath catches in his throat.

“Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin spins in place, feeling the weight of the heavy leather swing around him with the movement.

Seungmin is just barely visible at the edge of the trees, fog billowing around him from the wind. The effect is eerie, only emphasized by the situation he finds himself in; the stag waiting silent beside him, almost as if waiting to see how everything plays out.

“Seungmin,” He starts, but the words die before they ever leave his mouth. He isn’t sure they were ever there to begin with.

The sound of Seungmin’s boots over the leaves is soft, nearly inaudible over the wind. The stag doesn’t move even as he approaches, kneeling down to pull the last of the ivy free from the rock. Some of the engraving is missing, lost to water and wind and time, but there’s enough left for Hyunjin to know.

**-EUNGMIN K-**

**1506-1525**

**-VOTED SO-**

"I know you have questions," Seungmin's voice is soft, just this side of raw. Hyunjin wonders if he's going to cry. "I don't know if I have answers."

Hyunjin does have questions. Hundreds, swirling through his head faster than he could even begin to articulate them. The wind picks up like it can read his mind, howling through the trees like a wounded animal, and he looks up in spite of himself. The weather on the mountain changes faster than the valley; the clear sky from this morning is already vanishing, clouds rolling in quickly.

The deer moving startles him, the creature having stood so still for so long he almost forgot it was there. It steps towards the trees, hooves silent over the fallen leaves, and they both stare after it.

"Hyunjin," Seungmin begins, then falters.

The stag stops at the edge of the trees, head turning to look at them. Even from this distance, Hyunjin can see the faintest hint of gold in its eyes.

It seems to be enough for Seungmin.

"I have something I want to show you."

* * *

With the cloud cover, it's easy to lose track of time.

Hyunjin isn't sure how long they've been walking, or how high up the mountain they are now. Small flurries have begun drifting down over their heads, delicate white snowflakes tumbling to the earth around them to join more that had already fallen some time earlier, but Seungmin's hand in his is enough to keep him warm.

Then suddenly the trees thin out again, opening up around dark shapes scattered throughout the area. The stag is back in his view, standing tall like a forgotten sentinel in the center of the cleared land, golden eyes piercing into him. Somehow, it doesn't feel judging.

Instead it almost feels… Curious.

"Seungmin?" He whispers, suddenly all too aware of the crushing silence around them. What little wildlife noise there may have been is muffled by the dusting of snow. The shapes around them clearly aren't natural; they're too sharp, all harsh angles and edges.

Everything about the area sets his nerves ablaze, enough he doesn't realize how tightly he's squeezing Seungmin's hand until he squeezes back.

"I was…" Seungmin is more hesitant than Hyunjin has ever heard him. He pauses, seemingly to collect his thoughts, and his lips quirk up the smallest bit. "No, I was never _normal_ , but I wasn't always like this."

The snow is coming down a little heavier now, just enough to hang on his lashes and make him blink away the wetness.

"It wasn't on purpose. Not really. We all knew the stories. We all knew there was something in these woods." Tugging on his hand gently, Seungmin guides him further into the clearing, through the strange dark shapes. Looking closer, Hyunjin thinks they might be charred wood.

A fire.

A _fire._

Around Seungmin's feet, the snow melts. There's a soft hissing sound with each step they take; Hyunjin probably wouldn't notice it if he wasn't so wound up. "I didn't know who he was when we met. I thought he was just from another village. He was beautiful, and warm, and I…"

Seungmin pauses, eyes drifting from the stag in the distance to the clouded sky above. He's smiling, still, but there's a rawness to it. The expression feels like an open wound, and Hyunjin bites his tongue so hard he sees stars just to bury the idea of kissing it away.

"I fell in love."

Just like that, it makes sense. Hyunjin stares at Seungmin’s profile, at the snowflakes kissing his skin that melt in seconds and leave faint rivulets slipping down his face. An impression of tears Seungmin himself won’t- can’t?- cry.

“The one you were talking about before. The god.”

Even though it’s a whisper, Hyunjin cringes at how loud his voice sounds in the stillness. But Seungmin doesn’t flinch, barely even blinks as he leads Hyunjin deeper into the clearing. “Yes. I didn’t know then. I just knew I adored him and he wasn’t afraid of me, even once he knew what I was.”

The snow is falling harder now, flakes spiraling around them in a strange dance. Out here, this far from civilization, Hyunjin wonders for a moment if the rest of the world has ended- if it’s just them, in the cold and the wind, alone together.

He doesn’t think he’d mind if that was the case.

Seungmin stops, finally, almost dead center in the clearing. Where the snow melts around his boots, Hyunjin can see paving bricks- blacked and cracked from heat, but otherwise fairly intact. Between that and the structures, his best guess is they’re in the ruins of some kind of town. The deer is closer now, only a few feet away, watching both of them with those bright golden eyes. Its antlers look like jagged cracks in the clouds.

“It…” Seungmin hesitates, lets the words die in the air around them. Hyunjin wants to help him, offer some kind of comfort, but the atmosphere feels like a physical thing choking out his voice. He doesn’t know what he’d say, anyways. “I realized not long after. What he was.”

The witch smiles again, that same soft, wounded look in his eyes. “I didn’t care. I loved him, and he loved me. So… He gave me a piece of him.” Seungmin releases his hand finally, and Hyunjin mourns the loss of warmth. The chill seems to seep into his very bones at the loss of contact, making him shiver.

He watches as Seungmin toys with the top buttons on his shirt, revealing a hint of pale skin. Part of his brain focuses on the dips of Seungmin’s collarbone, filled with the urge to press his lips there, feel Seungmin’s heat with more than just his fingers.

But most of him focuses on what _else_ Seungmin is showing him.

Faintly glowing lines chase over his skin. They pulse softly under Hyunjin’s stare, tracing the lines of Seungmin’s veins, like there’s fire in his blood. Hyunjin wonders if, maybe, there truly _is_.

“Most people are being metaphorical when they give someone their heart,” Seungmin laughs softly, the sound sending electricity up Hyunjin’s spine. Another button, and he can see the glow strengthen, see the spot where Seungmin’s heart sits burn ember-red through the skin. “He wasn’t.”

Hyunjin reaches out to touch it without thinking, fingers resting on Seungmin’s soft skin over where the glow is the most intense. He almost draws back when it clicks, but Seungmin’s eyes are soft and fond and Hyunjin can _taste_ his own hope. “So… This is… Why you’re like this?” Seungmin is _so_ warm here, borderline scalding, but he won’t pull away. The snow melts before it even touches his bared skin, and Hyunjin marvels at the way the droplets steam away. “You have the heart of a god?”

If he stares hard enough, he can see the scar on Seungmin’s skin through the pulses. Thin and pale, almost vanished to time, arched over the left section of his chest. It’s smoother than anything Hyunjin has ever seen, nearly delicate in appearance compared to what it means.

Seungmin speaking startles him out of his thoughts. “In a way.” Hyunjin hesitates, moving to pull his hand away, but Seungmin catches it before he can. His touch is fever-hot, borderline scorching, as his hand curls around Hyunjin’s. “I was always a witch. He made me something more.”

The silence settles back over the clearing as heavy as the snow. Hyunjin can still see the deer, moving in their periphery, sniffing at a piece of charred wood jutting toward the sky. But Seungmin, brilliant and warm, holds his attention like an inferno practically in his arms.

Maybe the cold finally seeps in, because Seungmin gently tugs his hand away, squeezing it tightly before redoing the buttons on his shirt. Part of Hyunjin is sad to see the skin covered up, but there’s something serious in Seungmin’s downcast eyes, and he bites his tongue. “Minnie? Why did you bring me up here?”

Seungmin hums tunelessly, fiddling with the last button for longer than he needs to. He seems almost _nervous_ , and it sets Hyunjin on edge, makes his heart rattle in his ribcage like a trapped bird.

“You know how witches are viewed, Hyunjin.” Seungmin’s lips curl up at the edges, but it isn’t really a smile. “My family did their best to hide it, but after… When it was fresh, there was no hiding it. I was a heathen and a danger.”

The deer raises its head again, ears twitching, nose lifted as if there’s something on the wind that sets it on alert. Hyunjin thinks of the wolves he’s heard at night, wonders if maybe it can smell them. He wonders if it fears them.

He wonders if he should fear Seungmin.

“They tried to kill me.”

Seungmin doesn’t look up. His brows furrow slightly, eyes fixed on the wet ground around his feet. At the flame-kissed stone, what Hyunjin thinks was probably part of some kind of courtyard, now that the pieces come together. Fire and nature and time have destroyed most of this place, but they can’t remove the past.

The wind kicks up again, almost swallowing Hyunjin’s words. “What happened?”

As if carried in by the wind, the smell of smoke billows around them, and Hyunjin doesn’t know if it’s in his imagination or not. Those dark eyes blink shut, long lashes painting shadows over his cheeks for a moment before Seungmin opens them again.

Once more, he’s reminded of the first time he saw Seungmin. He still feels trapped by the intensity of that stare, but this time, he has no desire to escape. “I wouldn’t burn,” Seungmin offers up softly. The snow comes down harder, but Hyunjin barely notices it. The warmth around them, around Seungmin, is so intense that the cold has no effect on them. “He was always kind and warm to me, but… He isn’t something that can be contained or smothered. When they tried…”

A fire.

Hyunjin closes his eyes, letting the wind and the snow run over his skin. He can feel the wetness from the melting flakes, even if the cold doesn’t really touch him; not with Seungmin so close. The smell of smoke, real or imagined, lingers in his nose, in the back of his throat. It’s easy to guess from there what happened. The burn marks on the ground, the charred wood.

“He’s coming back.”

His eyes open.

Seungmin has turned just a little, watching the stag as it carefully steps through the snow, hooves sending up clouds of steam. Hyunjin watches it too. It seems to feel his stare, because it stops mid-step, bright-eyed gaze locking onto his own. Time stretches in a strange way as their eyes meet; it could be only a second, it could be hours.

Snorting, the stag dips its head. The fog of its breath billows upward, darkening to black, pouring out long after the exhale finishes.

Smoke.

As its head raises again, he registers the flames. They’re beautiful in a primal sort of way, dancing up over its antlers like a crown, and Hyunjin understands why he was pulled out today. Why he found the stag, the graveyard, the stone. These ruins.

Why he found Seungmin.

“Are you scared of me, Hyunjin?”

The question drags his eyes back to meet Seungmin’s. There’s no judgement there, just honest curiosity. He _knows_ that, no matter what he answers, Seungmin won’t be upset.

But he also knows how he feels.

The smoke drifts higher into the sky behind Seungmin. The stag is moving towards the trees, ash and dust flaking off its body, guided heavenward by heat and wind, as the fire consumes it. He's been taught, as the son of a woodcutter, fire is destruction. Death. That even a stray spark could turn everything to ash. Bring about the end of all beautiful things.

Hyunjin thinks he's been taught wrong.

“No.”

And the response he gets, Seungmin’s eyes widening before his expression blooms into a smile like the sun, is enough to make him fall even further.

* * *

In spite of the intensifying snowstorm, they make it back down the mountain before nightfall. Seungmin’s hand stays in his the entire trip, and Hyunjin barely notices the cold.

He hangs his coat by the door while Seungmin starts the fire, logs crackling to life with a quick tap of his fingers. It’s still surreal to watch, even having seen it dozens of times over the past few weeks. But now he can _see_ it, the pulse of magic slipping to Seungmin’s fingers, burning under his skin like magma. He doesn’t know if it’s _new_ , for it to be this visible, or if he simply hasn’t been watching closely enough.

Seungmin rolls his shoulders when he stands, eyes fluttering shut for a moment with the stretch. The shadows flickering across his skin cast him in shades of orange and gold, and for a long moment Hyunjin just finds himself staring.

Long lashes flutter, and he finds himself trapped in Seungmin’s gaze.

There’s a moment where they don’t say anything, just watching each other in the silence of the cabin. Hyunjin swallows around his nerves, pulling his lower lip between his teeth before releasing it. Then Seungmin sighs, a soft sound he barely hears over the crackling of the fire. “Jinnie…” There’s something dark and gloomy in his tone, something that Hyunjin can’t place. “Maybe you should go.”

Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat.

“What?”

Seungmin turns toward him fully, clearly hesitant before he speaks. “I’m not trying to throw you out. Please don’t think that. But…” A few small steps, and Seungmin reaches for his hand. He doesn’t pull away, letting the witch interlink their fingers, and he can see some of the tension drain from his frame. Seungmin doesn’t look up from their joined hands, a calloused thumb running over the back of Hyunjin’s hand. “It will be rough, when he first returns. And I don’t want you hurt.”

It makes sense. It does. Hyunjin has no idea what the return of a god is like, but it _sounds_ dramatic.

He still wants to stay.

“Is…” His voice cracks, and he swallows hard, trying to get it under control. He can feel his eyes starting to burn with tears he desperately doesn’t want to shed. “Is there no way I can stay?”

Seungmin looks up, eyes fire-bright, and for a second Hyunjin can’t breathe all over again. They’re close, _so_ close, and the part of Hyunjin that isn’t aching from the conversation wants to steal another kiss. But the bloody raw thing in his chest keeps him from moving, even as Seungmin stares at him with an intensity that he can’t name.

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin begins, then hesitates, squeezing his hand tightly. He seems to be struggling to find the words, and Hyunjin doesn’t even know where to begin to ask. “What you’re asking for… Hyunjin, I can’t undo that. You’ll be tied to me, and to him. Until the fires go out.”

It’s an intimidating thought, objectively. He still doesn’t fully understand the depths of Seungmin’s powers, or the ties that bind him to this god. He’s not sure he ever could, not without experiencing it.

It’s an intimidating thought. Objectively.

But subjectively? Forever, out here with Seungmin?

“But… You _can_ do it?”

Seungmin blinks, slower than feels really natural. That brightness in his eyes hasn’t dimmed, flecks of gold threading into the warm brown, and he wonders if it has something to do with the god returning. “Not entirely, not on my own. But I can make it so you can stay, and he can finish the bond.”

"Oh."

The silence that follows is deafening inside his own head. Seungmin doesn’t move, doesn’t push him to make a decision or give an answer. Just waits. The same way he’s always waited, Hyunjin realizes, for the god he loves to come back to him. The _person_ he loves, because he’s sure to Seungmin the god will always be the warm stranger he met in the woods, nothing more or less.

Only now he’s waiting to see if Hyunjin will stay or go.

Hyunjin has always hated pressure, shied away from too much burden being put on his shoulders. It’s why he chafed under the idea of taking over the family business and having someone else chosen for him with no consideration of his feelings.

But here, under the intense weight of Seungmin’s stare, he feels like he could lift the world.

“I want to stay. Please.”

Seungmin’s hand is warm in his. His eyes and lips are both soft when he grants Hyunjin another kiss, the contact feather-light but heavy with promise. "Okay."

* * *

Seungmin makes them dinner. It’s delicious, roasted rabbit rich with herbs and spices he doesn’t recognize, but it doesn’t settle the fluttering in his stomach.

He can see the stars through the treetops out the window, faint pinpricks of light and fire in the void, and he wonders if that’s what Seungmin truly is- not a witch, but a star drawn to earth, somehow contained in a human form. It sounds just as fantastical as what he knows.

“What do I need to do?” Hyunjin is seated in the chair again, his usual spot while Seungmin carefully peruses his shelves, pulling down a few small, opaque jars. They make a soft clink as they’re set on the stone cutting board Seungmin had put out earlier- Hyunjin’s only seen it a few times, when Seungmin is working with materials he calls more ‘delicate’.

Seungmin hums thoughtfully, opening each jar in sequence. The smell that wafts out is something Hyunjin can’t immediately identify, smokey and deep in a way that makes him think of home and fire and _Seungmin_. “There’s two ways to create the start of the bond.” Seungmin pulls out some sort of root-like substance, freeing a knife from the block and beginning to chop it in smooth, precise movements. “They’re very different, but both will work. The decision is up to you.”

Hyunjin chews on the inside of his lip, watching Seungmin’s hands as he works. It’s calming, almost hypnotic, especially paired with the soft sound of metal striking stone. “What are they?”

“The most common form of pact is a blood pact.” The diced root goes in the mortar next to Seungmin, followed by a pinch of some dark, fine powder from the second jar. “It hurts a bit, but it’s very simple. I would mix a small bit of both our blood into a paste with the other ingredients, and use that to start the connection.”

Phantom pain shoots up Hyunjin’s leg at the thought of slicing himself open again. If it was the _only_ option, he would take it without hesitation. But… “And the other way?”

Seungmin hesitates then, eyes flicking up to Hyunjin as he frees a vibrant purple herb from the third jar. “It is a rarer form, but I know how to do it.” His tone is carefully neutral in a way that makes Hyunjin direly curious, even as he slices the plant into thin ribbons. “I would use this mixture to mark your skin, writing down the pact, and…”

The pause feels like an eternity, the only sound Seungmin’s knife and the faint crackling of the fire. Seungmin carefully slides the slices onto his blade, pushing them off into the mortar.

“You would lay with me.”

Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat.

Seungmin doesn’t look up from his work, carefully capping the first three jars before picking up the pestle. He seems calm about how casually he suggested something so intimate, and Hyunjin wonders if he would even _want_ to lay with him. Seungmin has had a god; there’s no way he can live up to that, especially not with his inexperience.

“Hyunjin.” He startles a bit at the mention of his name, dragged out of his thoughts by Seungmin’s soft voice. Seungmin’s eyes are calm and warm, no hint of indecision, and just like that Hyunjin _knows_. “I would never pressure you into anything. The choice is yours, and yours alone.”

The sound of Seungmin grinding the ingredients is the only thing that carries through the cabin. Firelight dances over them both, putting Seungmin’s beautiful features in sharp relief, and Hyunjin lets his hesitation drift away with the smoke.

“I want to be with you.”

Seungmin smiles, dawn on a cold morning, and Hyunjin is in love.

* * *

When Seungmin finishes, the paste is thick and black as night, smelling of smoke and maple and damp summer evenings. Hyunjin is embarrassed, at first, to strip down to his underwear, but Seungmin’s bright eyes and singular focus on him make it easier. Make it more intimate than practical.

Hyunjin expects the mixture to be cold, or at least room temperature, but instead the first touch of the mixture to his skin is warm and almost soothing. Seungmin doesn’t use a brush, instead drawing carefully intricate patterns over his skin with his fingertips, and the intensity of his focus has Hyunjin absolutely transfixed. He has no idea what the symbols are; he’s only seen them in Seungmin’s notes, something arcane and ancient now transferred onto his skin, and it may be in his head but he swears he can _feel_ the magic Seungmin is pressing into the ink. His eyes drift shut of their own accord, and he has no idea how long he sits there, letting Seungmin’s touch drift over his skin.

He’s drawn back out of his head by a soft pressure on his lips, eyes fluttering to see Seungmin pulling away from the kiss with a smile. “Come with me, Jinnie.” He whispers, hand slipping into Hyunjin’s and guiding him towards the bed.

Part of Hyunjin is still nervous about the idea, no matter how much he adores Seungmin. But Seungmin’s smile is warm, his eyes bright and fond in a way that makes the thing in his chest flutter and grow, and without thinking he leans in to kiss Seungmin. Seungmin smiles against his lips, tugging lightly on Hyunjin’s hand and sending the two of them tumbling onto the bed.

Their lips break apart, and he stares down at Seungmin, trying his best to memorize every inch of his face, the exact look in his eyes, the way the fire’s warmth seems to pale compared to the inferno he feels every place their bodies touch.

A calloused hand cups his cheek, Seungmin’s thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Would you like to undress me?”

Hyunjin’s hands tremble a little as he undoes the buttons on Seungmin’s shirt, revealing more of the golden skin than he’s ever seen. He can see the scar clearer in the low light, arching almost to Seungmin’s collarbones, and the soft glow from within his chest. He doesn’t think, lets himself operate on instinct as he ducks down to press a kiss to the smooth skin, almost searing under his lips. Seungmin sighs softly, hand drifting to tangle briefly in Hyunjin’s hair where it’s grown long enough to brush his shoulders.

He’s reluctant to pull away enough to free Seungmin from his shirt, but the kiss he gets in return, intense enough to steal his breath, is payment enough.

The trousers take a little more effort, leather trying to stick to Seungmin’s skin and drawing a warm laugh from the other. Soon enough they’re both in similar states of undress, only in their underthings. Seungmin is beautiful, he’s known that the entire time, but seeing him like this is something completely different. “You’re sure you want this?” Seungmin whispers, close enough that Hyunjin can count every lash, every small mark and pore on Seungmin’s skin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this much.” The words slip out without his permission, but they’re the absolute truth.

A smile playing on his lips, Seungmin pulls Hyunjin down for another kiss.

Hyunjin doesn’t know how long they lay there, exchanging lazy, heated kisses, Seungmin nipping lightly at his lips and tongue when he gets overeager. He’s aware he’s aroused, can feel Seungmin’s own hardness against his hip, but Hyunjin thinks he could just stay like this forever.

Seungmin, on the other hand, apparently has other ideas.

Knees tighten around his hips, and in one smooth movement Hyunjin finds himself on his back, Seungmin’s hands sliding up to catch his and pin them to the bed. He breaks the kiss, and Hyunjin’s eyes flutter open, staring up at the witch. Seungmin’s eyes are brighter than ever, more gold than brown, with flecks of red beginning to form, and Hyunjin thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful. “Is this okay?”

Hyunjin doesn’t trust his voice, so he settles for nodding, entire body tensing when Seungmin settles his weight down in his lap. The pressure on his dick is strange but pleasant, especially when Seungmin rolls his hips in slow circles, pressing another kiss to his lips before trailing down to his jaw.

Seungmin’s hands are searing hot as they slip down Hyunjin’s body, smoothing over his sides while he leads a series of kisses to Hyunjin’s chest. He lingers there, lips pressed over where Hyunjin’s heart flutters in his ribs, fingers toying with the waist of his underclothes. “May I?” The question is whispered into his skin, the sensation alone enough to make him shudder.

“Okay.”

The gentleness of Seungmin’s touch helps ease some of his nerves as he strips them both down, settling back on top of Hyunjin while carefully avoiding sitting on his erection. “You’re beautiful.” Seungmin informs him, catching Hyunjin in a kiss before he can protest that Seungmin has it backwards. It starts gentle and sweet, but then Seungmin licks into his mouth, coaxing Hyunjin’s tongue to tangle with his own. “Do you want to open me up?”

Even the idea sends heat and ice both shooting through Hyunjin’s veins, the thought of bringing Seungmin pleasure warring with his fear of hurting the other. Seungmin seems to sense his indecision, kissing the corner of his mouth and leaning over to pluck a vial of a slick, oily-looking substance from the table beside the bed. “I’ll show you what to do. You won’t hurt me, love.”

_Oh._

He’s known already, without ever speaking it into existence, but hearing it from Seungmin’s lips... Now the words burn his tongue like he’s swallowed a flame, scorching through his throat and deep into his chest. WIthout thinking, he brings his hands up to cup Seungmin’s face, thumbs brushing over soft skin as he does his best to memorize every detail. “I love you.”

Seungmin smiles, turning his head to press a kiss into Hyunjin’s palm. The contact runs fever-hot. “I love you too, Jinnie.” Seungmin’s free hand cups his, interlacing their fingers and guiding Hyunjin to hold his hand out palm up. He uncorks the vial and pours the contents over Hyunjin’s fingers, a sweet-smelling oil that Hyunjin is tempted to taste.

But the look in Seungmin’s eyes keeps him focused, hyper aware of every tiny shift of the body above his as Seungmin sets the empty vial to the side. The firelight sends shadows drifting over the slender lines of Seungmin’s body, helping guide Hyunjin’s eyes downward, and he can feel his cheeks flushing at his first proper look at Seungmin. It’s not as if he’s never seen anyone else naked, they hadn’t always bothered with swimming clothes when they ventured to the river down south, but… It’s the first time in a situation like this.

He can’t think of any other word than _beautiful_. Seungmin looks so slender, but he knows the deceptive strength lurking in his frame, only heightened by the faintly glimmering lines arcing over his skin. The glow is strongest on his chest, by his heart, but Hyunjin follows trails all over his body, gold and red swirled over lightly tanned skin. He knew Seungmin was hard, knew what this entailed, but the sight of Seungmin’s cock, flushed red at the tip and leaking just the smallest bit, still sends his thoughts to a standstill.

Hyunjin knows he’s staring, but he can’t look away. Seungmin laughs, the sound whisper-soft, and guides Hyunjin’s slicked-up hand between his legs, past his arousal to brush over his rim. Seungmin dips his head down to give Hyunjin another kiss, smiling softly. “Don’t be afraid.”

He isn’t sure how he _could_ be afraid when Seungmin is above him, looking at him like he’s something divine.

Seungmin keeps his hand cupped over Hyunjin’s, nudging his fingers with his own to guide one inside him. Hyunjin’s eyes widen at the sudden softness and heat surrounding his finger as Seungmin sighs, lashes fluttering.

In spite of his own inexperience, Seungmin’s gentle guiding touches and his own primal instincts help him figure out how to press in deeper, angle his finger to drag over Seungmin’s walls, until Seungmin encourages him to press a second one inside him. There’s more resistance this time, a moment where Seungmin’s body fights before allowing the intrusion, and Seungmin shivers slightly when Hyunjin’s fingers slide all the way in.

“Now spread your fingers out, Jinnie.” Seungmin instructs, kissing Hyunjin’s jaw again. Hyunjin does as he’s told, scissoring his fingers apart inside Seungmin and feeling him stretch around him. Seungmin gasps softly, eyes dropping shut for a moment, and Hyunjin is transfixed.

Seungmin doesn’t move his hand away, using it to guide Hyunjin’s movements and keep him steady, which Hyunjin is beyond grateful for. The fear of hurting Seungmin sits at the forefront of his mind, even with the beautiful sight of the other man’s pleasure in front of him, and the knowledge that Seungmin could stop him at any time makes it easier just to focus on the moment.

Time slips away from him as Seungmin coaxes him to use three fingers, hips moving in shallow movements against Hyunjin’s hand and soft sounds leaving his mouth. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, but Seungmin keeps murmuring soft encouragements, pressing kisses and endearments into his skin like a brand.

“That’s enough, dearest.” The breathless quality of Seungmin’s voice sends something white-hot from his core up his spine, especially when coupled with the slick sound of his fingers being pulled from Seungmin’s body. Seungmin guides his hand to his hip, encouraging Hyunjin to curl fingers over hot skin as he reaches between them with his own slicked-up hand.

Hyunjin gasps, loud in the quiet, when Seungmin’s hand wraps around his dick, the first time someone else has actually touched him. Seungmin smiles, stroking him slowly and smearing the oil over his length. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, Hyunjin swallows, trying to find his voice. “Yes. _Please_.” He’d be embarrassed by the way his voice cracks, the desperation in his tone, but somehow he can’t care. Not like this, with Seungmin straddling his hips, the crackling of the fire the only sound other than their breathing.

Seungmin lifts his hips up, guiding Hyunjin to his entrance, and then he sinks down. It takes everything in Hyunjin not to buck upward, more into the intense heat of Seungmin’s body, and he’s sure his nails are nearly breaking the skin where he’s grabbed Seungmin’s thighs. Seungmin’s lashes flutter, a soft moan escaping him as he rocks himself further down in small little movements until their hips sit flush.

Hyunjin’s chest heaves as he sucks in air, staring up at Seungmin with wide eyes. Seungmin has always been beautiful to him, but like this, skin bathed in firelight, the glow on his skin creating abstract patterns, he’s absolutely radiant.

Bright eyes open, gleaming gold in the dim light, and Hyunjin feels pinned under his gaze. He can feel heat on his skin where the marks Seungmin painted sit, like they’re being scorched onto his flesh. Seungmin’s hands come to rest on his chest, fingers spreading out as he braces himself. Hyunjin isn’t prepared for the sensation of Seungmin _almost_ pulling off his cock, leaving just the head inside, before dropping back down. His moan almost drowns out Seungmin’s soft gasp of pleasure.

Seungmin dips his head down, catching Hyunjin’s mouth in a rough, desperate kiss as he repeats the motion over and over and _over_. Hyunjin can’t help crying out into Seungmin’s lips, letting the witch swallow his sounds and pass his own back.

The bed creaks with the movement, Hyunjin clumsily fucking up into Seungmin every time he drops down, until Seungmin suddenly pulls back with a moan. He sits up fully, cock flushed and leaking against his stomach as he leans back on his hands, watching Hyunjin with half-lidded eyes. “Right there-” Another shift of his hips, and he moans again, head tilting back.

Hyunjin stares, struck dumb by both his own pleasure and the sight of Seungmin like this. The shimmering marks only seem to be getting brighter, in tandem with the growing heat in his stomach and on his skin, and he spares a single thought for the ritual Seungmin is doing. How he’s binding them together like this.

It’s clumsy when he slips his hand from Seungmin’s thighs up to his dick, wrapping around it and jerking him off almost hesitantly. Seungmin gasps at the contact, another soft moan leaving him, and Hyunjin tries to burn the whole scene into his memory. He’s closer than he wants to admit, and he wants to be sure Seungmin feels even a fraction of the pleasure he’s bringing him.

Seungmin looks back down at him, eyes fire-bright, and Hyunjin knows he made the right decision.

He sees Seungmin’s lips move, forming words he can’t even begin to guess, the blood rushing in his ears somehow deafening all at once. The paint on his skin _burns_ , suddenly white-hot with pleasure, and he doesn’t even have a chance to warn Seungmin before he’s spilling into the other, crying out loudly.

Seungmin keeps rocking his hips, helping guide him down even as he swoops in to catch Hyunjin’s lips, kissing him soft and deep. As his senses come back to him, Hyunjin tightens his grip on Seungmin’s cock, fisting it sloppily until Seungmin is moaning into his mouth and spilling across his stomach.

Their ragged breathing is the only thing he can hear when they separate, panting against each other’s lips in the afterglow. Seungmin’s eyes gleam in the low light, and Hyunjin’s skin still tingles where the marks sit. He doesn’t _feel_ any different, but… “Did it work?”

Seungmin laughs breathlessly, nuzzling against Hyunjin’s face with a smile. “Yes, my love.”

* * *

Winter settles over the mountain fast. The birdsongs in the morning taper off and die, only a handful of evergreens holding on to their foliage under the blankets of snow, yet Seungmin’s little garden stays strong.

Hyunjin starts noticing the changes not long after. They’re subtle things mostly- like the chill in the air never really permeating his skin, or the way he can keep up with Seungmin without getting winded anymore. The only truly _obvious_ sign is the delicate symbol Seungmin drew over his heart- the color of the paste is long gone, but the skin has scarred, the symbol burned into his flesh.

It’s a cold morning when Seungmin gently shakes him awake, pressing kisses across his cheeks and nose. “Jinnie, dearest, wake up.” He murmurs softly, smile brighter than the sun when Hyunjin’s eyes finally flutter open. “It’s time, my love.”

“Time?” Hyunjin’s groggy brain doesn’t make the connection at first. Not until he sees the glow of Seungmin’s skin even through his nightshirt, the way his skin throbs where the sigil sits, and he realises. “ _Oh._ ”

The god is coming back.

Seungmin is practically giddy as they dress, stealing kisses every chance he can take, and for all Hyunjin’s nerves the excitement pouring off Seungmin is contagious. He doesn’t know what this will entail, or whether or not the god will even approve of him- Seungmin has assured him he will, that he will adore Hyunjin was much as Seungmin does- and the nerves make his stomach hurt, but…

Seungmin’s hand slips into his as they leave the cabin, eyes crinkling with his smile, and Hyunjin thinks it will all work out.

The climb up the mountain isn’t as hard now, even though they’re going further up than Hyunjin can ever recall going before. The air thins out, their breath forming thick clouds in front of their faces, but the cold barely seeps through his jacket in spite of the heavy snow around them, and as the trees thin out Seungmin only pushes himself faster. Suddenly the trees break, a small clearing opening in front of them before Hyunjin anticipates it. Seungmin’s hand tightens around his.

In the center of the clearing is a stone altar, a bronze-colored brazier set dead center. Hyunjin hasn’t seen many altars beyond the one at the small church in town, but this one is beautiful- simple perhaps, but with elegant, smooth symbols carved into the edge of the stone. The same symbols that he’s seen all over Seungmin’s books.

The same symbol that’s burned onto his chest.

Inside the brazier, a fire burns with no clear fuel, blue-white from heat, and Seungmin squeezes his hand. He glances over at the witch to find him watching Hyunjin with his eyes soft and full of love. “It’s going to be okay.”

Hyunjin can’t resist stealing another kiss, feeling Seungmin’s smile against his lips. “I love you.” He whispers into the quiet air between them, his own smile widening when Seungmin nuzzles their noses together.

“I love you too, Jinnie.”

His attention is pulled away by a sudden roaring sound and he startles, looking back at the altar. The fire spills over the edge of the brazier, pouring across the snow like liquid as it spreads, and for a split second panic wells up in his chest as the clearing around them is engulfed.

Then Seungmin tightens his grip again, interlacing their fingers while the inferno rages around them, and somehow Hyunjin knows everything will be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @norudeghosts


End file.
